


Joe & Nicky's Malta Break

by CatBiscuit



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25290235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatBiscuit/pseuds/CatBiscuit
Summary: Joe and Nicky enjoy themselves in Malta ;) Written from Nicky's perspective.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 4
Kudos: 173





	Joe & Nicky's Malta Break

**Author's Note:**

> Never written or posted anything like this before so let me know how I can improve! :)
> 
> This couple left me with so many feels I had no idea what to do with them...
> 
> I copied and pasted this from Word so hopefully, the formatting holds up. Argh, sorry, please enjoy!

Kidnapping. Human experimentation. Booker’s betrayal. Even by immortal standards, it’d been a rough week.  
Joe emerges from the balcony doors, thrown open to allow the Mediterranean breeze through the apartment. As if sensing that my mind was beginning to retreat miles beneath my skin, Joe says “It’s not selfish to take a break, you know that. You need it, Nicky.”  
I shift my gaze from the terracotta mosaic of Valletta City’s roofs to focus on Joe. My hand finds itself playing with the black curls just behind his ear. “No. We need it.”  
Joe is silent for a moment, his dark brown eyes searching my face for something. The same brown eyes I’d fallen in love a millennia ago. His posture is lazy; cat-like even, his weight supported by the balcony’s rail, arms folded across his chest. Despite his relaxed demeanour, I can tell exactly how he’s feeling - the toll these past weeks have extracted on him. How he’d gripped me that much tighter when we fell asleep on the plane ride here. The tautness of his shoulders, visible even under the pale linen shirt he’s now dressed in.  
The corner of Joe’s mouth quirks up, as if he’s finally found what he’d be searching from my face. I know exactly what Joe’s half smiles mean – what he wants.  
I caress his cheek and place a light kiss on his lips, his beard tickling my face. Joe tastes of citrus and cinnamon. My arms envelop him, finding their familiar places on the planes of his hard body. My tongue prods Joe’s lips, politely asking for entry. Instead, he pulls away. I lean in again and Joe dodges me. He bites his lips, his eyes alight with cheekiness.  
I swear in Italian and Joe has the audacity to giggle. “And to think here I was telling those soldiers how kind you were, Nicolo.” Cocky bastard.  
I grab Joe’s hand and drag him towards the bedroom. Feigning reluctance, Joe clings to any handhold he can find. “Oh no, where are you taking me, habibi? Mind you, this isn’t the first time you’ve dragged me somewhere. I distinctly remember you towing me behind your horse after you’d given up trying to kill me…”  
I shove him onto the bed and Joe grabs my hand, pulling me down on top of him. “Talk later,” I say through gritted teeth. Joe opens his mouth to make a snarky reply but before he can say anything I crash my lips against his. This time, there's no games; Joe explores my mouth with his tongue, and I do the same to him. Joe's humour is now gone, replaced by an animalistic hunger. This dance of tongues - we've done it so many times before - yet this same desperation clutches my mind every time. An eager to please, to show just how much I love him.  
While our tongues fight for dominance, our bodies do the same. We grind against one another for any attempt at friction, his cotton covered length rubbing against my thigh. I blindly pull at his shirt, choosing brute force over delicacy. Each button breaks with a resounding pop, the sound of which only heightening our passion. I break away from Joe and trail kisses down his neck, tracing the hard line of his collarbone. Joe props himself up on his elbows and I make my slow descent to his waistband.  
Joe pushes his bottom lip forward, pouting. “Nicky, this was my favourite shir-“  
He’s cut off as I pull his pants off, allowing his cock to spring free. My mouth goes dry. “I’ll make it up to you.”  
I take a moment to admire all 8 inches of him before I slowly – tentatively – take his head in my mouth. After centuries of practice, I’d become something of a professional at pleasuring Joe. That is, of course, if the look on his face is any indication. We maintain eye contact the entire time, even as my eyes begin to water as I approach his base. I inhale the musky scent of him, closing my eyes briefly to fully appreciate it. Every inch I swallow Joe lets our an involuntary sign of pleasure – his breath catches, a muscle in his cheek flexes. This is what makes it worth it.  
I pull back for air, sitting back on my knees breathless. I stand up and undo the waistband of my own pants, where a small wet patch is evidence of just how turned on I am right now. They’re tight. Too tight. I can’t help but let out an audible groan as my pants fall to the ground and I step out of them.  
Joe remains where he is on the bed, instead raking his eyes across my body. His gaze is greedy – predatory, even. The only move he makes is to slowly stroke his own cock as he takes in the sight of me. He taps his hairy, muscular thigh. “Come here.” His voice is strained. “Please.”  
I crouch on top of him, lining his cock up with my entrance. Slowly, I lower myself on to him, Joe whispering words of encouragement in Italian. My face soon scrunches up in pain and I let out a gasp.  
Joe caresses my thigh. “Shhh, you’re doing so well, Nicky.”  
I try to control my breathing. It’s been so long since we’ve done this, since we’ve had time alone.  
Eventually, Joe is entirely inside of me. He gives me a moment to adjust to the size of him. I’m always this tight – immortal healing and all.  
Joe looks up at me. “Are you ready?” It’s always my decision with him.  
I give an affirmative grunt and immediately Joe flips us. Now, I’m on my back on the edge of the bed and Joe is above me. Slowly, he pulls out before he fills me up again. My cock is hard on my stomach, oozing precum which trickles across my abs with each thrust.  
“Oh fuck… harder Joe, please…” He obliges.  
We don’t break eye contact. Joe leans in, slowing to a loving rhythm as he kisses me deeply, our fingers lacing together.  
I break away. “Remember what we did last time we were in Malta?”  
Joe cocks an eyebrow. “Too well.”  
Without warning, Joe picks me up from the bed and carries me over to the wall. In the mirror across the room I can see the muscles in his back flex as he adjusts to my weight. Slowly he continues to thrust into me but with each passing seconds he speeds up to match our panting. He’s drilling me now and we’re both moaning in ecstasy.  
“Oh fuck, Joe I’m going to cum.” Hearing this drives Joe’s thrusts pick up even more speed.  
Joe sheathes himself inside of me one last time as he finds his release. His warmth fills me and he recites my name over and over again, like a prayer. “Nicky… Nicky…”  
He nuzzles my neck for a moment before letting me down. His voice hoarse, Joe asks, “How was that?”  
I glance down at the mess I’ve made before I look back up into his eyes. I grin. “It wasn’t bad.”  
“IT WASN’T BAD?” Joe yells. “You’re a little shit, Nicky, you know that?”  
I click my tongue. “Don’t worry, nothing can live up to last time,” I give his ass a light tap. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up.”


End file.
